That doesn’t mean I don’t get great homemade pizza! Our (Lilandra and myself) current go-to recipe for pizza comes courtesy Rose Levy Berenbaum, author of the Bread Bible, from which this recipe is taken. RLB herself noted on her site that her recipe is in fact a no-knead dough recipe!** And therein lies much of the allure of this recipe – no need to knead, a very beginner-friendly method of shaping the dough, and a lovely airy, chewy crust. There are instructions for an overnight rise in the refrigerator, which adds to the flavour, however, I have been reasonably happy with the 2 hour prep method, which is why the recipe is on my shelf next to the Hops Bread recipe because I turn to those even on an evening after work. I suspect the flavour element is helped by the dough having the olive oil layer on the outside of the crust, which coupled with high heat in the oven results in a crispy flavourful outside, with a chewy airy inside!

The recipe makes a 10 inch pizza. My notes are in red.

Ingredients

¾ cup plus 1 tablespoon flour (4 ounces), preferably unbleached all-purpose or Italian-style
½ tsp. instant yeast
½ tsp. sugar
½ tsp. salt
1/3  liquid cup water at room temperature (70 to 90 degrees)
4 tsp. olive oil (this adds up to quite alot if you are making multiple pizzas, see note on Step 3)

Steps

1. In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, instant yeast, and sugar. Whisk in the salt (this keeps the yeast from coming into direct contact with the salt, which would kill it).

2. Make a well in the center and pour in the water. Using a rubber spatula or wooden spoon, gradually stir the flour into the water until all the flour is moistened and a dough just begins to form, about 20 seconds. It should come away from the bowl but still stick to it a little, and be a little rough-looking, not silky smooth. Do not overmix, as this will cause the dough to become stickier.

3. Pour the oil into a 2-cup measuring cup (to give the dough room to double in size) or a small bowl. With oiled fingers or an oiled spatula, place the dough in the oiled cup and turn it over to coat on all sides with the oil. Cover it tightly. (You need enough oil to completely coat the dough with some excess visible, so, if you double or triple the recipe, don’t use the full amount of oil in the recipe – estimate it based on your bowl and the dough, otherwise this crust/dough can get really oily)

4. If you want to use the dough soon, allow it to sit at room temperature for 1 hour or until doubled. For the best flavor development, make the dough at least 6 hours or up to 24 hours ahead, and allow it to sit at room temperature for only 30 minutes or until slightly puffy. Then set the dough, still in the measuring cup, in the refrigerator. Remove it 1 hour before you want to put it in the oven. (remember, increased dough-development time means increased flavour!)

5. Preheat the oven to 475 degrees 1 hour before baking. Have an oven shelf at the lowest level and place a baking stone on it before preheating. (my oven in Guyana does NOT get hot enough to really make this or any crust really sing! sigh)

6. With oiled fingers, lift the dough out of the measuring cup or bowl. Holding the dough in one hand, pour a little of the oil left in the cup or bowl onto the pizza pan, and spread it all over the pan with your fingers. Set the dough on the pan and press it down with your fingers to deflate it gently. Shape it into a smooth round by tucking under the edges. If there are any holes, knead it very lightly until smooth. (I just shape into a ball, the extra kneading is not usually necessary, but the oil helps with the handling of the dough) Allow the dough to sit for 15 minutes, covered, to relax it.

7. Using your fingertips, press the dough from the center to the outer edge to stretch it into a 10-inch circle, leaving the outer ½ inch thicker than the rest to form a lip. If the dough resists stretching (as will happen if you have activated the gluten by overkneading it), cover it with plastic wrap and let it rest for a few minutes longer before proceeding. (The first few times we did this, we ended up with misshapen, unevenly thin crust, with some holes. It didn’t affect the flavour or texture however awkward it looked. Once you get used to the method, round evenly thick pizzas are achievable)

8. Brush the surface of the dough with any remaining olive oil (I sometimes forget this part). Cover it with plastic wrap and allow it to sit for 30 to 45 minutes, until it becomes light and slightly puffy with air.

9. Set the pizza pan directly on the hot stone and bake for 5 minutes.( I don’t have a stone, but I manage)

10. Remove the pan from the oven and spread toppings (such as Pizza Tomato Sauce) over the dough. Return the pan to the stone for 5 minutes or until the toppings have melted and the crust is golden; or, for an extra-crisp and browned bottom crust, using a pancake turner or baker’s peel, slide the pizza from the pan directly onto the stone. After 2 minutes, slip a small metal spatula under one edge of the pizza; if the bottom is golden, raise the pizza to a higher shelf.

11. Transfer the pizza to a cutting board and cut with a pizza wheel, sharp knife, or scissors. Serve hot.

One of the common elements to be found in Alton Brown’s recipe, Rose Levy Berenbaum’s and even Reinhart, would be that pizza crust requires HIGH HEAT. Pizza ovens are to be like furnaces if you can get that. A baking stone helps with the evenness and retention of heat for the baking surface for pizza, which is why it is recommended, but don’t be turned away by its inclusion in this recipe.

Parbaking is also essential for this crust. It is light and airy, and given the no-knead method and the resulting wetter, looser dough, ANYTHING put on the crust before baking will weigh it down immediately. Trust me. We tried just brushing it with some sauce and watched it sink. Not completely, but enough. You could probably get away with a very light sauce, brushed very lightly…but definitely NO toppings.

This crust also makes a great flatbread – when we topped it with just za’atar, Mom said it reminded her of the khoubz (or Syrian bread) she grew up with.

So, from the Lilandra and Chennette family pizza-test kitchen, try RLB’s pizza dough!

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* pizza is a regular family endeavour

** you can visit her site for user comments on the recipe and her responses

But this bun was different. It was yellowish yes, but smaller and didn’t have the characteristic smooth roundness of a yeast-leavened dough. I had no expectations of it other than I was a little peckish and wanted something to go with my cup of tea. And with my first bite, I was transported. It tasted like biscuit cake! Biscuit cake in GUYANA! It looked nothing like the round, pale inch-thick disks, big as your hand and lightly covered with white specks of granulated sugar, which I know to be biscuit cake. But the flavour was there. I couldn’t believe my sister had never told me I could get this in Guyana.

Now, I love biscuit cake. It was always my requested item when we did a bakery stop during my childhood, and because it was usually the cheapest thing in the bakery, I could get 2, or biscuit cake plus half a currants roll. I have tried looking for a recipe online, but it doesn’t seem to be one of the things anyone has posted. If anyone has a recipe, let me know (and Mom, if it turns out you have a recipe I will forgive you if it’s in my inbox before you comment ). [I did a little googling and came across this recipe for Trini Milk Cake - is this it?]

Biscuit cake is so named, possibly because it is shaped like a big biscuit (American terminology=cookie). While it may appear firm and hard on the outside, it should have a softness to the bite with a milky mild sweetness, and appears almost unleavened? Of course those dryness-czars have attacked this delicacy as well and many bakeries had versions that were dry and tough and unappealing unless dunked in tea. I think my parents indulged the biscuit cake requests, not simply because of the price (30 years ago they might have been 50 cents and then later $1 – any idea how much it is now?) but also the fact that it wasn’t in fact sugar-laden. While most bakeries in Trinidad would have had this item, I cannot remember the last time I saw it. Of course it’s better to ask someone who lives in Trinidad…or in the case of Trinfood someone who lives in London but knows her stuff – she advised that Chee Mooke’s sells them and Bread Basket in St Ann’s has a good one. I remember my best was in a bakery we used to stop by on our way up to Santa Cruz – was it St Mary’s? – it had the best pastries.

Since I had that flashback I have been going further down memory lane, remembering all the associations with bakeries and buying pastries such as biscuit cake. [Photos in this later post]Of course, there were the times when during the week, on our way home from school we’d stop at the bakery to pick up hot hops (how many bakeries have flashing lights “Hot Hops Available Now”?) – one quart for home, half quart for the family of six to devour on the way home. And if we were due for a treat, Mom would bring back some pastries to the car for us.

But the best bakery times took place, not at the bakery, but with the bread vans. I’ve seen bread vans in Barbados – as students, we were introduced to Bajan specialties from a van that stopped at our student apartment. I cannot recall what they were called though. A bread van is a small minibus vehicle,** where instead of seats, the main cavity of the vehicle was stacked with shelves and trays carrying fresh bakery goodies. The vans belong or work for particular bakeries and they would drive through our village every afternoon selling their wares, getting customers who would otherwise not have transport to get into the town or main road to get to the bakery. Unlike ice cream vans, which play stretched out taped music through loudspeakers, or the fish vans which call out their goods on mikes (“Caaaaareeet! Fresh Caaaaaareeet! Fry Dry! CroCro! Red Fish Caaaaaareeeeeeet!”), bread vans generally announce themselves with quick tooting of the horn every few metres. What more do you need when you’re selling hot and fresh baked goods?

The best time to buy from the bread van was on the weekend. Everyone was home and hearing the horn from the round the corner was like a signal to put on the kettle. Pastries in the afternoon from the bread van meant we would stop whatever we were doing, and all sit down around the table and have tea! I wasn’t a fan of tea itself then, but the milk and sugar that went into it But the memory of those weekend afternoons, with the fat round brown teapot (sadly broken for some years now) filled to the brim with hot tea, and our choice of delicacies from the van laid out on the table, are part of the golden years.

As a scaredy-cat child it was torture, however, to be given the assignment to stop the bread van, although the promise of the purchases made that chore more successful than waiting for the vegetable or fish van! I lived in fear of embarrassment or doing the wrong thing and the thought that I might not wave the right way, and the van driver would sense my fear, know I was somehow an inadequate village child and sneer; rushing past me on the little village road, leaving me with my arm awkwardly waving at nothing, with all the neighbours seeing my failure (yeah, I know… had/have issues…). However, for the bread van I would brave it. I could even muster up the courage to make the purchases myself. After all I knew full well the contents of the bread van and could make an informed selection -

Jam tarts, flaky layered pastry, twisted into a big triangle, with bright red jam of unknown (to me) origins, warm so that the jam oozed out when you bit into it, with the top of the pastry glistening with its light layer of crystallized sugar. The pastry would be so good, you’d eat the dry ends even if they didn’t have a speck of jam! Jam tarts were a favourite of sister-the-elder and my father. I liked them well enough, but I didn’t usually request them.

Currants roll - this is a Trini classic – similar flaky pastry as the jam tart, but rolled out and sprinkled with currants and sugar and rolled up, baked and sliced diagonally creating that recognisable shape with layers of pastry and currants rolled around inside. I don’t have photos and I have never made it myself, but to get an idea, look at these photos from my Flickr friend Reya. Currants rolls are I think my father’s favourite. Wherever we go someone would say “get a currants roll for your father!”. Of course he wouldn’t turn down a good jam tart either. And since he doesn’t overindulge, he’d have half of each, leaving his half of a currants roll to be snatched up by his children at the first opportunity. Probably why he, the ever-thrifty, would buy a couple extra so we’d leave his alone.

I remember in the late 80s/90s when there were import restrictions and we couldn’t get currants in T&T. So people made currants roll with raisins, bad enough since they resemble raisins but have a tang and moistness that do not match the currants! Worse yet was when they used those bright coloured pieces of what used to be part of a fruit, which the TriniGourmet once aptly named the “rubiks cube bits” Currants roll should have currants. We even had a currants roll lady in the village (have I mentioned the Dahi Lady and the Channa Lady?) who would make currants roll for every event in the mosque and for Eid. Of course I knew her name, but I think she’d be pleased we remember her for the pastry only she made in the village.

Madeleines are not the cakes you’re probably thinking of. The madeleine found in Trini bakeries is a small light cupcake, completely covered in a red jamlike substance (see jam tart above) and then rolled in grated coconut. Absolutely lovely. Very sweet outside, light and fluffy inside and the little added texture of the coconut. I would look out for that and hated the vans that didn’t bring it and had bellyful cake instead (I do not understand the allure of this).

Rock Cake/Bun – This is like a drop bun, with coconut flavour, and the “rock” really refers to the rough hard exterior – the inside should still be soft. It’s scone like, not rolled out smooth, but dropped onto the baking sheet, so it looks like a rock I suppose. I used to eat all around the outsides before the middle – the hard outsides were my favourite part. And rock cake shouldn’t have things in it as far as I am concerned, but people will always find a way to add their raisins and bright coloured things…

Of course bread vans would also have sweetbread and regular cakes. Maybe some savoury stuff. I don’t really remember. Trinifood had posted about some of these traditional sweets a few years ago. Since I am not often in the homeland to stop a bread van or take a poll of the bakeries, I’d love to hear from you about these faves of mine. Recipes welcome. Recommendations as to good traditional bakeries appreciated!

And now that I am pausing my reminiscing and that you (hopefully) have read all the way down here without a single photo to break the prose, let’s go have some tea. And if you’re not in a hotel, look out for the bread van for me!

UPDATE (24 March 2010): added links to TriniGourmet’s recipes for the Trini yellow bun and Coconut Drop where mentioned above.

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*I know…this isn’t really an Ode. There’s no lyric poetry here…maybe some other time!

**The minibuses that ARE minibuses are called bread van maxis if they’re this small size. Maxi-taxi being the Trini (and Turkish) minibus

According to Wikipedia, za’atar i’s generally a combination of ground dried herbs such as oregano, thyme and marjoram, with toasted sesame seeds and salt. And then there’s the sumac. Which isn’t necessarily found in all varieties – Wikipedia says it’s a Lebanese addition, perhaps. Sumac is used in the Middle East and in the Mediterranean as spice to add some sourness or tangy taste, hint of citrus, to dishes. It’s found as a ground red (or dark purple) spice and people use it as a seasoning in all kinds of dishes, or just over a salad (see salad at right which we had in Saudi Arabia last year after the Hajj). I wanted my za’atar sour-ish, so I wanted the sumac version.

So to get back to the sumac. We bought some when we went to Hajj last year. We weren’t entirely sure what we were looking for, but in a trip to one of the big stores (a Bin Dawud) we looked all throughout the spice counter just to see what they sold (such big spice counters!). In addition to our trying to figure out what was good saffron (and that is yet another story we haven’t told**), we saw this huge tub behind the counter with a reddish ground spice. Hmm…we asked what it was. The guy looked confused…confused that we were asking I think, he seemed to understand but not speak English but was most likely wondering who on earth doesn’t know what sumac is? After a few tries, with the salesperson becoming increasingly amused we figured it must be sumac and bought up a big bag (might have been a pound…it’s light stuff, but the deciding how much to buy further delighted the man behind the counter I am sure.

So this Eid I had sumac. I had sesame seeds. I even had dried oregano and thyme. Za’atar was my destiny. Za’atar has a complex flavour – nuttiness from the toasted sesame seeds (which is enhanced if you use a little geera/cumin like I did, the tang from the sumac and the thyme and oregano rounding out the overall depth. In addition to dipping some fresh bread (of any kind, doesn’t have to be pita) into this, I’ve used it for chicken, in pasta, baked on a flat bread/pizza dough…possibilities abound.

ZA’ATAR RECIPE (so easy)

• 1/4 cup sesame seeds (toasted)
• 2 tbs dried thyme
• 2 tbs dried oregano
• 1 tbs sumac (or a bit more)
• 1 tbs geera (cumin)

I left out salt, since I figured I could add that to taste depending on need and use of the za’atar, but if you are making a batch for a specific use, go ahead and add the salt – about 1 tsp.

Toasting sesame seeds is great, because I love the smell and the magic of seeing the shiny goldenness appear – but be very careful, since it goes from a hint of gold to black very vast. The seeds are very small after all.  I used a small non-stick pan, stirred frequently, and when many started to get shiny and golden (even if still lots of white) I turned off the heat and kept stirring in the pan till they were evenly brown.

You could just mix all ingredients together, or do as I did,  and zap them briefly in my coffee grinder. Which doesn’t really grind tiny sesame seeds, but everything gets mixed together very evenly.

Also…those amounts up there – VERY subjective. You might want more sumac, or less thyme. Or no cumin at all.  Add marjoram. Play around with the amounts. If you don’t have access to sumac, add some lemon salt or lime/lemon zest for the sourness (see Arabic Bites, a great blog by two sisters, for a recipe for Za’atar and Arabic Pizza (manosha).

For Eid, I did a chicken kebab inspired dish, using lots of za’atar, that was apparently a hit even for fussy pre-teens. And more recently I added it to some whole wheat  pasta and that was just lovely. I have no photos of these meals, but will post the chicken recipe soon enough. When I was in Trinidad for Eid ul Adha last month, Lilandra and I made pizza and used one of the pizzas as a za’atar flatbread. Yum.

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* A quick word as to pronounciation. Lilandra and I were recently shocked to hear Mario Batali and Alton Brown mangling this word on Iron Chef America (old episode I guess, can’t remember the secret ingredient) with variations given and ALL wrong. It is not pronounced zaTAH or zaTARR… Stress the first syllable, ZAHtar and if you want to get technical, the Arabic has an ‘ayn in the middle, which gives a in-the-back-of-your-throat vowel sound and hence the apostrophe in some spellings to indicate it’s like za-ahtar.

** The saffron story – I started to write it here, and decided that perhaps I should post on our much-neglected Hajj blog!

Of course, as with any food, people have their preferences, and the Rules result in sawine made the way Mom (and her family) enjoy it. Following your own rules gives you sawine the way you want it. Just don’t hold me responsible for the consequences. Now, no angry emails or comments, please. You know this is not really meant to consign all other sawine recipes to the bin or somehow malign your Naanee or Chachee or whoever taught you how to make your sawine. It’s just that any dish steeped in tradition comes with rules held over your head by a matriarch (or patriarch) as she (or he) forces you to adhere to the rigorous standards and elaborate methods to achieve the same results that generations before you enjoyed. To do anything less would be unthinkable. Part of that tradition is muttering about how the people down the road does use ghee instead of butter or them next door leave it on de stove too long or how your Aunt (by marriage of course) too own-way and look, you eh see how nobody eat she food last year?

The rules are also especially important when it’s a dish like sawine, where your version is going to have to compete with a dozen others on the same day, many many more during an Eid “season”. Sawine is traditionally made in huge quantities on Eid day so that you can share to everyone in the village or in the office and every single visitor – if it is one thing you have at a Muslim household on Eid day, even if you made some yourself at home, or if you have 20 other houses to visit later, you MUST try their sawine. It is very much a Trini tradition. Growing up the Eid schedule was: Mom wakes up earlier than anyone else and starts the sawine; then we go to masjid for salaah (prayer); come back change nto cooler clothes; pack up sawine in jugs and containers; join the other neighbourhood children to start delivering the sawine to each non-Muslim household while it’s still relatively cool in the morning. Special households would get some other sweets, but everyone would at least get sawine. And so, all our neighbours would get sawine from quite a few houses. And you want to know that yours can compete! The same way we wait for just the right parsad on Divali night, or sweet rice from the neighbour up the road. You don’t want to hear how anybody throw out your sawine or leave it for the least favoured family member to eat! (And in a village, somehow you hear these things…). Heck, for years, I’d always go across the road for their sweet bread (sorry Mom, but the recipe you gave me now is just the way I like it, so it won’t happen again).

Making sawine, with all that pressure, always seemed like a big, involved process. It is surprisingly a lot easier than you would think, especially if you are making for 10 people, instead of 200. No need to pull out the big gas ring stove, and huge masjid iron pots to patch (parch) humungous amounts of vermicelli days in advance etc. It is relatively straightforward and can be done fairly quickly in your own kitchen on a regular, or even small stove-top.

First, the RULES:

1. Never patch with butter (oil, ghee or any other fat) - this will make the sawine greasy and gloopy and it will spoil quicker.

2. Boil the sawine separately from the milk – or else the sawine will be gloopier and and it will spoil quicker.

3. Don’t boil the sawine or milk with raisins or cherries or any fruit – only with nuts – add those other things after it’s cooked, or else the milk will split or sour faster

4. Only mix milk into sawine in batches as required. – or else…well you get the idea!**

Recipe after the jump

You probably gather by now, and certainly from the photos, that we like our sawine to be not-gloopy… the vermicelli should be free flowing in the milk, which should be thicker than regular milk, sure, but nothing approaching a pudding texture. We even add a little regular milk on top when we take it from the fridge to keep it loose. It is just our way.

Now, some of you might not know what “patching” is. I write it that way because that is how I hear it pronounced. We patch vermicelli noodles for sawine, flour for halwa etc. It means brown in a heavy pot (with or without butter) and perhaps comes from “parch”? I do not know.

But now, the RECIPE
(this makes a decent pot for a small dinner event, or for the family with leftovers in the fridge – it all depends on whether you are a big bowl sawine-eater or a little serving…it should make about 2 – 2.5 litres)

Ingredients

* 1 cup vermicelli
* cinnamon stick, cardamom (elaichi) pods, cloves
* 4 cups water
* 1/2 cup sugar (preferably white, granulated)

* 175 ml (1/2 tin approx) tin evaporated milk plus equivalent water
* 195 ml (1/ tin approx) tin condensed milk plus equivalent water
* 1 tsp almond essence
* 1/2 cup ground blanched almonds (if desired)
* raisins, cherries etc (if desired)

Parching
1. Heat a heavy-bottomed pot. Add vermicelli (breaking up into small pieces before or in the pot) and whole spices.
2. Stir frequently until all noodles are brown, but not burnt. There will be some unevenness in the colours, some being beige to dark brown, that is normal.
3. Empty out into a metal bowl or tray and let cool.
Note: You can store parched sawine for a long time, just keep (with spices) in a sealed bag or container. If you might need to hang on it to it forever, keep it in the fridge but you might want to reparch it before making the sawine.

Sawine
1. In a pot big enough to fit 2.5-3 litres, put parched sawine, sugar and the 4 cups of water to boil. You may add ground almonds to this.
2. Boil until just cooked (try not to overcook as it will just continue to cook in the hot water and then over time will soak in all the liquid anyway).
3. Meanwhile, mix the evaporated milk, condensed milk and almond essence (mix VERY well)  and heat gently. (Mom sometimes adds almonds to this as well). Don’t let it come to a boil. On Saturday, Mom heated the milk in my microwave!
4. Add milk to sawine when ready to serve.
5. Just before serving, you may add raisins and cherries etc. Or you can keep these in bowls for guests to add as they like. If nut allergies are a problem, then keep the almonds out of the cooking and put on the side as well.

Notes:
1. As this is a small batch, which will not stick around for long, I am going to condone breaking one of the rules and say that you could just boil everything together if you wanted. I would insist, however, that if you were making a larger batch, or were making this in advance, that you boil them separately to achieve the consistency the Rules advocate.
2. If you are going to refrigerate, then wait till both liquids are cool, then mix and store in fridge. You will need to add some more milk before reheating, although I wouldn’t reheat – just top up with a little plain milk and stir.
3. Some people do not like biting into whole cardamom. I hate biting into whole cloves. When the sawine has boiled, most of the cloves and cardamom will have floated up to the top – retrieve them as much as possible and discard.
4. Experiment with spices – a dear friend of mine, from Jamaica,*** the first time I ever made this by myself, decided when she tried it, that anything with milk and cinnamon could benefit from nutmeg, and thereafter we had it with nutmeg!

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* People have asked me for a sawine cake recipe – I think this one by Guyana Gyal seems a good one to try.

**Mom also has a horror of things spoiling and many foods have certain rules or steps to follow to ensure that they don’t go bad – she is a pro at cooking large amounts of food, and it is on these occasions, particularly for events where food tends to stay out in uncertain conditions, that one has to be very careful.

*** Rone was a frequent visitor and commenter on this blog, and passed away completely unexpectedly a year ago. I’ve had her in mind all throughout this post, and I guess this one’s for her.
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I have decided, that although Eid ul Fitr has passed for this year, that I shall attempt to post recipes for all the things we made for this Eid. After all, people will still be looking for them next year, or indeed for Eid ul Adha (which is just a couple months away).  And it should help with the number of posts…always a concern for a blogger…

Our (sister-the-elder and I) prep for Eid started earlier in the week with discussions on menu and making lists. I’m doing Eid with her family here in Guyana and not in Trinidad. So, we basically have to cater for the mosque crew tomorrow from lunch onwards (which will NOT be curry since that’s the primary food group they’ve been enjoying all month long at the masjid). And then another big do in the week for other friends, which will be curry (alhamdulillah, because it means less I have to actually cook!). And then, super ambitious this year – I am going to have a few people over next weekend for a small Eid dinner. Haven’t done that since my student days in Edinburgh. I usually just am part of a larger family thing either at home in Trinidad, or here in Guyana with my sister. So lots of menu planning and cooking.

All 3 events will need some sweets. And after our years of experience with Mom, we try to set aside some nights in the week before Eid to make large batches of sweets. This was somewhat hampered by lack of essential ingredients (NO Nestle’s cream? Can you imagine?? I can only surmise the distributor in Trinidad just kept all there!). But 2 nights ago we made gulab jamoon – 206 of them, fried in batches of 13 and then sugared in a quick icing sugar glaze. We had planned to make one of those large cartering size sheet pans of barfi…but no cream and no desire to be creative and experimental with such a core sweet. So tonight we made halwa – 1.5 lbs of semolina halwa! All this while fending off 2 little ones and with the varying helpfulness help of a pre-teen and teen.

We also did some prep for the more savoury courses – boiled 5 lbs potato for the potato salad, ground 3 lbs of channa and lentils for falafel, cooked the 4 lbs of minced beef for lasagna, someone cut up and season the 20 lbs of chicken and made sure we had more than enough green seasonings and other ingredients. We also made a macaroni pie with lots of cheese and mustard…and minced beef (which won’t pass Lilandra’s standards because of that one little addition). It made a good dinner for the night of Eid, followed by ice cream (and goodness, the places little ones can drip and drop ice cream is amazing…and they don’t go for the no-stain coconut…no, it has to be chocolate…)

So for those who are interested, our menu (a la Lilandra’s usual style)

Eid Day

• Falafel
• Tahini dip (darn got to remember to dig out the tahini from my fridge!)
• Lasagna
• Yellow Rice
• Stew Chicken
• Potato Salad
• Green Salad
• Halwa
• Gulab Jamoon
• Sawine

(It may not sound particularly exotic, but we’re looking forward to it, so it’s festive enough!)

Wednesday
Curry – which should be roti, rice, curried meats, punpkin, bhagi…you get the idea)
Plus the sweets

Saturday Night

• Falafel
• Bulgur Pilaf
• Trout Filets baked (perhaps stuffed) in a sour cream/lime sauce
• Chicken Biriyani OR
• Chicken Kebab inspired dish (with Middle Eastern seasonings – time to break out the sumac I brought from Hajj)
• Potato, Eggplant and Feta dish
• Usual sweets (whatever’s left)
• Baklava (if I can find filo pastry)

It’s already close to midnight and I still have to sort out my clothes, so I won’t even try to put more photos in this post. You can browse my Flickr stream for Eid photos and enjoy!

Yes, I know, this is primarily a food blog, and people might think I spend a lot of time cooking, or getting food supplies, but recently, not so much. And to actually get out there on a Saturday!! Saturdays I am not usually sure I am alive, much less active. So I hope and pray insha Allah (God willing) that the focus continues. I’ve found over the years, that focus during this month makes me more efficient at work too – getting things done more quickly and getting OUT the door and home. So we can all hope for some more food talk on this blog during this month too as it relates to Ramadan of course.

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Speaking of good happenings, several weeks ago the ever-so-kind people at Amazing Trinidad Vacations contacted me to interview Chennette for their site. I took a while, but they were patient thankfully, and the interview is now live on their blog. I am very flattered that they asked me – one of the previous interviewees was David Rudder!!  The site is intended to be a vacation guide to Trinidad and Tobago, starting with the personal experiences of the hosts (a family affair, Trinis and Trini by marriage) and providing information on the destination, culture, food etc – it’s a good online resource to refer people to as a starting point. Even for locals – especially those who missed out on the family’s Maracas trips

Barbecue means different things to different people though – is the method of cooking, the equipment, the meat itself, the sauce or a particular meal combination? What makes a bbq? Growing up in T&T, we would barbecue on Old Years (what better way to pass the time in the one night you were allowed to stay up late?) together with neighbours. Which meant chicken, of course, with the lovely thick and charred layer of yummy, spicy and sweet, ketchupy bbq sauce. One of our neighbours would always wrap a big whole fish of some kind in foil and throw that on the grill too, all seasoned up and piled with onions and tomatoes etc. I remember an uncle trying to get me to expand my horizons beyond chicken with a piece of beef sliced off a big slab he’d grilled to a nice brown outside. Although I was not partial to it at the time (BEEF? no sauce??), I can still remember the flavours of smoky beef (NOT smoked beef which is a different entity entirely), which my more mature palate now can appreciate.  And oh, that’s just the proteins. No bbq in Trinidad can really be complete without the potato salad. All the better to soak up extra sauce. And a fry rice on the side. One year, we (Mom) contributed a lovely creamy cheesy green fig pie.

As we got a little older, we moved onto kebabs – lamb, chicken, veggie…skewered and then tossed in a olive oil, garlic and fresh herbs (Mom always has mint and thyme etc around). For a few years we did the Old Years’ barbecue at an uncle’s house, where we prepped whatever we wanted while he manned the grill. Fresh pineapple grilled, with sweet caramelisation on the outside and juiciness on the inside, together with lamb is just lovely. Once, when Dad wasn’t home to lug out the bbq, Mom got out the old small coal pot and we did lamb kebabs. We probably still did potato salad, or macaroni pie for the sides though.

So, when I was briefly in Toronto some years ago as a student, and was told to come along to the barbecue for the Faculty’s student orientation bbq, I was a bit taken aback by what that turned out to be – hot dogs…with veggie burgers (for people like me) – they fired up a grill for HOT DOGS. Was that all the Canadians meant by bbq? Did this extend to all of North America? Of course, I realised that couldn’t be it. I’d seen ads with people throwing steaks on the bbq. But it did make me wonder, what really do people mean when they say bbq? The Wikipedia entry doesn’t really make matters any clearer, other than identifying different usages and meaning in various parts of the world -

“[Barbecue] is a method and apparatus for cooking meat, with the heat and hot gases of a fire, smoking wood, or hot coals of charcoal or a propane gas grill, and may include application of a marinade, spice rub, or basting sauce to the meat. The term as a noun can refer to the cooking apparatus itself, or to a party that includes such food. The term as an adjective can refer to foods cooked by this method. The term is also used as a verb for the act of cooking food in this manner.”

People can name things whatever they want If you read this blog you know, that is fine by me. Barbecue, at least the word, can be traced right back to the Caribbean, however (see Wikipedia) -

“Most etymologists believe that barbecue derives ultimately from the word barbacoa found in the language of the Taíno people of the Caribbean. The word translates as “sacred fire pit.”[2] The word describes a grill for cooking meat, consisting of a wooden platform resting on sticks.”

But let’s move away from things that I am unclear about to things I know. Which, as always, focus on my personal experiences, and people are welcome to contribute their own (different) knowledge! Barbecue for me is about cooking over fire, yes, but to be “Trini” barbecue, the sauce is as important. And I don’t mean that (hickory) smoked American style bbq sauce – I really don’t like that flavour so much so that I hate bbq-flavoured chips (if only they’d invent a shadow benny bbq-flavoured chip). The sauce is important, because while the meat is cooking, you have to keep basting with the sauce, so that by the time the meat is cooked through, it has developed this thick, crusty exterior built from charring and sauce, while the meat is kept moist; with every bite ensuring that you taste the flavours of the sauce. (Of course this can be achieved by that other Trini favourite, of drowning food in sauce but it’s not quite the same thing…)

The Trini bbq sauce is ketchup based, and while everyone puts their own spin on it, it is essentially meant to be a little on the sweet side, infused with our regular green seasonings and some heat. I like when there’s a touch of tamarind in it – to bring a tang and complexity of flavour that is balanced out by the sweetness and the must-have shadow beni/bandhania. I know some people who add some citrus to the mix. While if you’re in a rush, you can just mix the ketchup together with your other stuff, the best sauce is made from slow-cooking all the ingredients together (watch out for ketchup splatter, and add some extra liquid).

The most common barbecued meat is chicken…well, that’s just the most common meat in T&T isn’t it? And there are different schools of thought on achieving the best balance of cooked-but-not-dry meat and crusty exterior. Most people favour pre or par-cooking the chicken, particularly when cooking for a large group, or in a rush. Because getting a quarter of a chicken to cook properly all the way through, takes some time…it’s not like a flat, relatively thin lamb chop, or a steak which can take some rareness. So many people will steam the seasoned chicken till almost fully cooked (sometimes even with some sauce), or microwave it, and then start the basting and grilling process. This is fine for a crowd, when you only have a single relatively small bbq, but I like the flavour of the chicken when you’ve cooked it long and slow, basting all the time, and then charring. The photo on the left was from a couple months ago, when I visited home, and since it was just 4 of us, Lilandra and I convinced Mom to put the chicken raw on the grill. And yes it took long, but without exposing it to too much high heat while it cooked, it worked!

The foil packets around the chicken (and the lamb in the first photo) contain potatoes and carrots, tossed in olive oil, garlic and green stuff, and just left on the edges of the bbq, turning occasionally, while we cooked the meat. The result? Tender on the inside, crispy-skinned potatoes with nice flavour, and really nice carrots that made us wish we had tossed in some honey with the olive oil.

Of course, Trini don’t necessarily barbecue EVERYTHING with sauce…chicken, lamb, beef, steak-fish…sure..shrimp too I am certain…but we’re a people interested in food generally. So I am sure there are nuff people out there who bbq hot dogs and burgers too. And kebabs with olive oil dressing. And veggies straight on the grill. I mean, what else is that roadside favourite roast corn?

One thing you do have to keep in mind about the Trini BBQ culture…if someone comes up to you and says “ey, we having a barbecue next weekend…”, get your wallet ready. Chances are the next words will be “I have some tickets here to sell. Is for the child school/mosque/church/mandir/sick person”.

Yes. In T&T the BBQ has become almost synonymous with a fundraiser.* It’s the method of choice for all – sell some tickets, buy some boxes,** fire up some coals, fry the rice and boil the potato for the salad…and fix-up. It’s a time-proven technique for which everyone knows the routine and can lend a hand. In fact the Q has become so common, that it has given rise to variations in the true spirit of the country. Chinese-Q - keep the fry rice, but use chinese-style chicken*** and chow mein. Curry-Q – roti (mostly paratha/buss-up shut), with curried chicken, channa and aloo and maybe pumpkin or curry mango. Veggie-Q - this can be any of the Qs without the meat, and some additional veggie preparation. I think we’re still missing out on some demographic, however, and I look forward to the Syrian/Lebanese-Q (or maybe Mediterranean-Q or Arabian-Q). I’ve gotten pelau in boxes before, but not sure why or where…was that a Creole-Q?

Now, if someone comes up to you and says, “we going to bbq tonight” as opposed to “having a bbq”, you might be safe to just walk with your belly and enjoy the goodness.

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* I have seen a similar BBQ for fundraising in Guyana, but I am not sure how pervasive it is or if there are other variations here.
** Who here has never folded boxes??
*** In the words of Alton Brown, that’s another show…

Even 3 year olds know this.

Niece #1: “Mummy, can I get some chocolate”

Sister-the-elder: “No, it’s too late. If you’re hungry you can have some bread or some food.”

Niece #1: “Mummy I will be happy if you give me chocolate, I am not happy now.”

Good thing she never watched The Incredible Hulk, or her next line would have been, “You wouldn’t like me when I’m not happy, Mummy.”

We did somehow manage to take quite a lot of photos of the things we ate (although not everything!). Somehow, I guess this seemed acceptable…I haven’t sorted through those yet. I just couldn’t face it. Soon we’ll just create an album of the daily food or something.

While I’ve only got up to the days just after the Hajj was completed, anyone who’s interested can go visit Chennette’s Flickr album for Hajj 1429.

The photos are still of Makkah and I have some proper Kaabah shots to upload yet. Not to mention Madinah!! Insha Allah it’ll happen. What with relying on my cameraphone and the Olympus P&S that is supposed to be sister-the-elder’s when we thought we’d have the new Nikon Coolpix we got for the parents…the photos got better as we got used to the camera…AND I am tweaking

First View of the Kaabah

Originally uploaded by Chennette

The family returned from the Hajj on the 29th of December 2008. Last year That was on Monday and today is Friday. But we arrived with the usual Hajji cough, cold, flu, allergies, tiredness from 3 days of travel, good cheer from the completion of the Hajj and the communion with 4 million people from all over the world…everything but our luggage. Four of us, and the only luggage we got was our little 2-gallon container of Zam Zam water!

Alhamdulillah, we got our luggage yesterday. Of course, passage through and long stay in Caracas meant that 4 were opened and a couple things snagged from 2 of them, but nothing overly important or valuable (i.e. all my new hijabs are intact).

Lilandra walked with a copybook and had the great idea for us to journal (by HAND) so that we could at least have some notes for blogging later. We did pretty well on the trip TO Saudi Arabia, even having comments (in the margins) and guest commentary and musings from the parents. That never made it past the plane to Jeddah though. Once we got into Saudi we were in full Hajj mode and that just took up all our concentration and attention.

The experience of the Hajj is difficult to explain briefly. On one level, it is intensely personal, a completion of an individual religious obligation (if you can afford it) and an opportunity for forgiveness and personal prayer and supplication. During the Hajj, you try to do as much as you can to maximise the benefits of the experience. On the other hand, it’s a massive community exercise, with millions of Muslims from all over the world descending on the same location to do the same things for a few days. Oh, the languages, and the peoples, and the crowds. It’s all just amazing to be part of that, part of such a huge celebration and really feel like one of an Ummah (nation).

Lilandra and I will nonetheless try to chronicle our journey at our Hajj blog for posterity, and maybe for the benefit of any future hujaaj*. There are some really funny stories – especially the ones that were not so funny to us at the time. Wily old ladies and the unspoken battle for sleeping ground. The shock of the stooping toilets. Flat tyres and deserts. Saudi seasoning = salt, salt, and salt on the table.

I’ll link to them as we post, maybe cross-post a bit. But we’re back safely, and more or less healthy depending on when you ask us. As for photos, well, they technically don’t allow photographs in the Masjid-al-Haram (mosque around the Kaabah) and the Prophet’s Mosque in Madinah, but I managed it in Makkah (hence the pictures of the Kaabah and more to follow). In Madinah they’re much much stricter, but I do have some courtyard photos to share

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Hujaaj is the plural term for a pligrim, singular is Hajji or Hajja